


Infatuation

by lilaccoffee



Category: Football RPF, Little Mix (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Arguing, Break Up, Chinese Food, Clubbing, Dating, F/M, Fluff, Football Player Liam, Football Player Louis, Football Player Niall, Football Player Zayn, Football | Soccer, Hangover, Hook-Up, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Invasion of Privacy, M/M, Making Up, Medication, Movie Night, Movie Spoilers, Moving In Together, Pet Names, Public Blow Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Restaurants, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Showers, Stalking, Television Watching, Time Skips, Touring, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:19:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1826098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilaccoffee/pseuds/lilaccoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's probably safe to say it shouldn't have happened. Louis never should have fallen in love with him, the curly headed and green eyed stalker that seemed to make an appearance in every situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Infatuation

**Author's Note:**

> Also on my Wattpad HERE: http://www.wattpad.com/55941482-coming-soon-infatuation-larry-stylinson-one-shot?d=m

 He raises his binoculars to his eyes, zooming in on the person sitting on their couch. A smile tugs on his lips as he watches him. As Louis looks up, he puts his binoculars down, disappearing into the bushes.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Louis brings his cup of tea to his lips. He’s zoned out, watching the telly.

“Come on, Beckett,” he mutters. “Meredith isn’t going to have ex-sex with Castle again, so quit the jealous act.”

Louis tosses the remote on the couch forcibly as Beckett does something particularly jealous. He settles back against the couch, bringing the mug back up to his lips, when he gets a feeling on the back of his neck.

It starts of as a prickling, but Louis’ senses are soon heightened. The hair on the back of his neck and on his arms stand on end as Louis slowly turns to the side. He catches a glimpse of binoculars before they disappear.

Louis’ eyebrows furrow. He pauses the episode of  _Castle_ he has on, fumbling around for his phone. He finds it in the couch cushions, pressing four on speed dial.  

“Hello?”

“Niall, hey,” Louis’ tense and on edge as he speaks.

“Hey, Lou,” Niall says. “You sound upset. Is everything alright?”

“Not really,” Louis confesses.

“What’s wrong?” Niall asks, turning serious.

Louis nervously looks out his window. Though it's probably his eyes playing tricks on him, Louis swears he sees a glint. He gets up, going over to the window and opening it. When he sees nothing, Louis lets out a sigh.

“I don’t know, really,” he says to Niall. “I feel like someone’s watching me.”

“Watching you?” Niall questions to make sure he heard Louis right.

“Yes. I swear, Niall, I saw binoculars.” Louis pulls the curtains to the side, his eyes focusing on the sidewalk. He bangs his head on the wall when he doesn’t see anything. “For all I know, they could be watching me search for them right now.”

“You’re going crazy, Lou.” Niall laughs. “Nobody is stalking you. You aren’t that famous.”

“I know what I saw, Niall.” Louis' voice raises.

“Alright, alright.” Niall surrenders, giving into Louis' claim.

“You need to believe me, Niall,” Louis pleads. “I’m not kidding, I saw something.”

“Fine,” Niall says, “I believe you.”

“You do?” Louis stops his search to allow himself to be a little stunned.

“No,” Niall admits.

“Niall,” Louis lengthens the syllables in a whine, “you need to believe me.”

“I’m sorry, Louis.” Niall sighs. “It just sounds a little far-fetched.”

“I swear to god, I’m not making any of this up. I saw binoculars, and I know they were watching me,” Louis declares. He decides it’s best to pull the curtains across the window and turn the lamp on.

“Whatever you say, mate,” Niall says dismissively. “Look, I need to go. Make sure you’re on time for practice tomorrow.”

“I will be,” Louis snaps.

Niall chuckles. “Good luck with your supposed stalker.”

“Goodbye.” Louis disconnects quickly, catching a few seconds of Niall’s obnoxious laugh. Louis tosses his phone on the floor, going over to the couch and resuming the episode of  _Castle_. He attempts to submerge himself in Castle’s and Beckett’s relationship issues, but he can’t seem to lose himself in the show. With a sigh, Louis shuts off the telly and goes to bed.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

He holds the camcorder steady as he hides behind a tree. He films Louis’ practice for a few moments before he notices Louis has spotted his arm. He quickly packs his camcorder up and slips away, careful not to be spotted. Unfortunately, he thinks he’s failed at that last part.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

“Three laps around the field then split into two teams. We’re going to have a scrimmage,” the coach shouts his instructions at the players starting to file into the field.

Liam grumbles from where he’s stood beside Louis. “Laps,” he hisses the word.

Louis rolls his eyes, already starting to run. His eyes catch wind of the sun glinting off something, but he pushes his thoughts away and focuses on the pump of his arms and legs.

“Could be worse,” he says to Liam.

“Don’t imagine so.” Liam pants slightly. “Anyway, Niall told me you think you’re being stalked. Want to talk about that?”

“Not really,” Louis replies. He swallows air, forcing it into his lungs and making them expand. “I’m sure it’s just a fluke thing my brain pulled on me.”

“Niall seemed skeptical,” Liam says, “and, honestly, so am I. A stalker? Really, Lou?”

“I know it sounds crazy,” Louis agrees, “but it’s not. I know what I saw, Liam.”

“You know what you think you saw.” Liam shuts him down in a sincere tone. He feels slightly guilty when Louis gets a dejected look on his face. “Who knows, though? I’m sure you saw something.”

“I know you don’t believe me, so cut your shit and leave me the fuck alone,” Louis swears viciously and forces himself to speed up. Whether or not Liam wants to follow him is out of the question, because Louis is a much faster runner.

“Nice work, Tomlinson,” the couch praises him as he sprints by him.

“Thanks,” Louis replies. He stops in the center of the field, trying to hide his shortage of breath. He catches the glint again. Narrowing his eyes, Louis tries to see where the source is coming from. After standing around for a few moments, he accepts the fact that nothing is there and diverts his attention to the scrimmage.

“Two teams,” the coach is saying. “Louis, Ross, you’re captains.”

The two step forward. Louis shakes Ross’ hand, like tradition. Ross chooses first.

“Dean.”

Next, Louis chooses. “Gabriel.”

It goes on for a bit until the teams have been picked. Louis has Gabriel, Zayn, Peter, Len, and Colin. Ross has Dean, Charlie, Brian, Liam, and Niall. They set up lines, running through a couple pass drills before they start the scrimmage.

Louis focused for the first ten minutes. He’s giving his all into the practice until he sees the glint for a third time. This time, Louis sees an arm and a camcorder.

“Holy shit,” he curses. He trips over the ball that he didn’t notice being passed to him, falling flat on his bum. When Louis doesn’t get up right away, Niall jogs over and extends a hand, helping Louis to his feet.

“You alright there, Lou?” he asks. “You look pale.”

The hand disappears, and Louis presses a hand to his temple, shaking his head.

“No,” he says, “I’m not. I saw something. I’m not crazy, Niall, I’m not.”

“This sounds like a repeat of last night.”

“Niall, I swear.” Desperation creeps into Louis’ tone as he tries to make Niall believe him.

“Swear all you want, it won’t make me believe you.” Niall jogs away as the coach blows the whistle. He steals the ball from Louis, passing it to Gabriel.

Louis swears under his breath, checking the trees once more. He catches a glimpse of a white tee and a brown curls poking out from under a hat. The male disappears into the woods quickly, leaving Louis confused and worried.

“Come on, Tomlinson,” Len yells at him, “get your head in the game.”

Louis gives the woods one last look before he switches his concentration to the scrimmage. He steels the ball from Dean, kicking it down the field. Louis chases after it, dodging Brian and gives it a hard kick. The ball sails into the net, and despite it being a practice, Louis can’t help but smile in satisfaction.

“Nice one.” Zayn claps his back.

“Thank you.” Louis grins happily.

The coach blows the whistle and they break apart, Louis jogging over the half line and Zayn going into his defense-man position. Louis rolls his shoulders back, waiting for the coach to blow the whistle again. When it sounds, he surges forward, kicking the ball to the side before Dean can get it. Louis follows it, getting his foot parallel with the ball and sends it flying. The ball sails to Len, who passes it right off to Peter.

“Pass!” Zayn shouts to get Peter’s attention. Zayn claps his hands, running forward a bit. Peter passes it off to him, and then jogs forward until he’s near the net.

Noticing Liam making a move from behind, Louis intercepts the ball from Zayn, running with hit. He passes it to Peter, who sends it into the net.

“Yes!” Louis cheers, giving Peter a high-five.

The whistle blows for a third time, dismissing the players.

“Eight AM practice tomorrow,” the coach reminds everyone.

Niall catches up with Louis on their way to the locker room. He slings an arm around Louis’ shoulders, bumping their hips together.

“So, what do say about me, you, Zayn, and Liam going out tonight for a few drinks?” he proposes.

“Sure, why not?” Louis agrees.

“Why not what?” Liam asks, entering the locker room with Zayn.

“Let’s all go out for drinks tonight,” Niall says as he slides his shirt over his head.

“Yeah, sure.” Zayn nods. “Perrie and the girls just started their tour with Demi, so I’ve got no plans for the next couple of months.”

“Sophia’s went home to her mum, so I’ll go,” Liam replies.

“Great.” Niall claps his hands. “I’ll pick you guys up at ten?”

“Sounds good,” Louis says. He gathers up his clothes and toiletry bag. “I’m going to go take a shower, don’t wait up for me.”

“See you later, mate.” Zayn waves goodbye, gathering up his things and heading out the door. Liam follows, but Niall hangs back for a second.

“What?” Louis inquires, pausing in the doorway of the showers.

“You’re not going to talk about the supposed stalker tonight, are you?” Niall asks.

“No.” Louis frowns defensively. He turns on his heels and heads into the shower room without another word.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

“I see you,” he whispers to himself, peering through the shower window. He grins to himself as Louis starts to undress. “And I’ll see you tonight, too.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Louis puts the cap on the cologne bottle as Niall honks the horn. He gives himself a once-over before he heads outside to Niall’s black Audi. Liam has already claimed shotgun, so he gets in the back with Zayn.

“So, boys, where are we headed?” Louis asks.

“We’re going to party like it’s our last day on this Earth.”

Zayn says this every time the boys decide to go out and get drunk, it’s become a tradition.

“So, Niall.” Liam claps him on the shoulder.

“Yeah?” Niall lets the focus he had on the road wonder to Liam for a second before he diverts it back.

“Are we all going to have to find a ride back home without you?” Liam asks, teasingly poking Niall in the ribs. “As one of two single men here, I’m sure you have plans to get laid tonight.”

Niall shrugs, attempting to be nonchalant. “Whatever happens, happens.”

“Sure.” Zayn rolls his eyes.

“Seriously, Zayn,” Niall protests, “it could happen, or it won’t. Whatever happens tonight will happen and I’ll just go with it.”

“What about you, Lou?” Liam twists around to look at Louis.

He shrugs, too. “If I’m lucky enough, I won’t say no.”

“Of course you won’t.” Liam rolls his eyes again.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

To say Louis’ under the influence is an understatement. He’s just finished downing his twelfth shot and ordering his third bottle of beer. Liam, who doesn’t always like to drink and is therefore the designated driver, is casually sipping on a glass of vodka. He doesn’t plan on finishing it, but he doesn’t want to be left out of the fun.

“Liam.” Louis giggles to himself. “I am so drunk right now.” He starts to shift his hips up, pupils dilated. “And horny. Damn, I really want to fuck someone. Or have them fuck me. I’m so horny that I don’t even care,” he rambles on.

Liam just pats his back. “Go onto the dance floor, then. You’ll meet tons of people looking for a good shag.”

“You think?” Louis gets up on shaky legs. He braces himself with a hand on the bar counter, his eyes bloodshot and happy from the alcohol he's consumed. Liam's surprised that he hasn't thrown up from alcohol poisoning.

“Yep.” Liam gives him an awkward grin. “So go. But remember to get a cab or something; you're pissed drunk.”

“Too horny for that,” Louis whines. He wavers a little. Sturdying himself, Louis teeters to the clutter of sweaty and sexually frustrated people, attempting to join in with their grinding and bumping. He tries to fit in with their rhythmic hip swaying, hoping he can attract a few people so he has options, but Louis' movements match up with the guy behind him, and solely him. It's not that bad, Louis thinks, because this guy is rather nice looking.

“Hello.” And his voice is deep. It's extremely sexy, especially since the alcohol Louis can smell on his breath makes the guy's voice sound raspier than it already is. “I'm Harry.”

“Louis.”

The guy, the one named Harry, smirks. The one with the pretty curls and bright green eyes that seem to have been taken over by lust. “That's a pretty name, princess.” He pulls Louis' to him by an arm around his waist, ass to crotch.

“Mmm.” Louis grinds his backside into Harry's crotch, swaying his hips. He arches his back, throwing his head back onto Harry's shoulder. Rolling his hips against Harry's to the beat of the music, Louis lets a pant pass through his lips.

Harry turns him around, rubbing their crotches together. Louis rests his head in the cavity of Harry's neck and shoulder, in the perfect position for Harry to hear each hitch in Louis' breath and the small moans he tries to supress.

“How about you come back to mine?” Louis whispers in Harry's ear, giving a particularly hard thrust of his hips. Both of their dicks are hard and pressing together as both of them roll their hips together in a dirty rythm.

Harry shakes his head, pressing Louis' crotch closer to his and thrusting his hips. “Not tonight. Come to the bathroom with me, we'll finish this there.”

Normally, Louis wouldn't agree to this. But, then again, he wouldn't normally be this drunk either. Right now, every idea seems like a good idea, as long as it means he gets sex out of this.

“Okay,” Louis agrees. He pulls away, taking Harry's hand and dragging him back to where the washrooms are. He hears a wolf-whistle from Zayn, whom he silences with the brandishing of his middle finger. Louis knows Perrie won't be very happy tomorrow when she sees the photos of Zayn and the blue haired girl grinding.

Once locked in a stall, Harry pushes Louis up against the door, fiddling with his belt buckle. Louis lets his head tip back, a grunt slipping out of his lips. Harry gets his pants off and underwear, tossing them to the other side of the stall. He grips Louis by the base of his cock, licking his lips before going down. Harry wiggles his tongue against the underside, getting the head shiny with spit. Louis moans, lacing his fingers in Harry's hair and forcing his head down.

Harry makes a noise in the back of his throat as Louis shoves his dick in his mouth. He flattens his tongue against the underside as he goes down, making a slurping noise around Louis' cock.

“Jesus,” Louis groans. He makes a whining noise, thrusting his hips up, his head jerking to the side as he pants.

Harry pulls back, dipping his tongue into Louis' slit, lapping up the pre-come that's building up. He gives a sharp suck, pushing himself down until his nose touches Louis' pubic hair. Tears spring up in Harrys' eyes as he sucks harder, choking himself on Louis' cock. Louis head thrashes to the side, his grip on Harry's hair tightening. His hips thrust up again, a shuddering moan emitting from deep in his throat.

“H-Harry,” he cries out, squeezing his thighs together, trapping Harry's head between his legs. With an achy moan, Louis comes, shooting down Harry's throat in hot spurts. He finishes with a shudder, letting his head fall back against the stall door. He sighs, letting himself recover from his orgasm.

Harry stands from the floor, pushing his pants down his legs to allow his dick to spring out. It curves up to his stomach, hard and leaking pre-come. He wraps his hand around the base, his head falling back as he moves his fist over the shaft. A moan falls from his lips, his back making an arc.

Louis sobers up, pulling up his pants and knocking Harry's hand away from his cock. Harry's eyes fly open from where they had fluttered shut.

“What—” he groans in frustration, trying to wrap his hand around himself again. Louis tisks, swatting Harry's hand away for the second time.

Louis curls his fingers around the base of Harry's dick, giving him a sharp tug. Harry moans, his hand flying out to one of the walls, bracing himself. Louis speeds up the movement of his hand, flicking his wrist and swiping his thumb over Harry's tip.

Harry's hips move in tiny figure eights, signaling that he's close. With a few more strokes, Harry comes, spilling over Louis' hand. He lets himself go lax, riding out his orgasm by thrusting his hips up into Louis' grip. He's milked through it by Louis' skilled hand, making a whining noise when he becomes over sensitive.

Louis zips up his pants, kissing Harry's cheek. “Thank you,” he says in his ear, unlocking the door and stepping out from the stall. He rejoins Liam at the bar, ordering another beer and leaning against the counter, completely sexed-out.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

In the morning, Louis is groaning as he sits up in bed. He clutches his head and falls back against the pillows. The pounding in his skull is showing no signs of clearing up soon. His phone rings, which only makes his headache worse.

“Hello?” Louis croaks into the retriever.

“Jesus, you sound like like absolute shit.” Liam laughs. And really, how can he be so chipper in the morning?

“Thanks.” Louis frowns to himself, lips pursed. “Why are you calling me?”

“To let you know that I snuck in this morning while you were sleeping,” Liam replies. “I'm in your living room. Can't you hear me?”

Louis can hear the muffled voice coming from behind his closed bedroom door. He doesn't even know why he closed it, considering he lives alone with no shot of having someone move in anytime soon.

“I can now,” Louis replies.

“Are you going to come and sit with me, then?” Liam asks in a demanding tone.

“If I have to,” Louis answers. “I'm hanging up now.”

“You do that, mate.” Liam chuckles. He hangs up before Louis does.

After an excruciating ten minutes, Louis makes his way to the living room, plunking down beside Liam, whom immediately thrusts a glass of water and an Advil into his hands.

“You look like shit, too,” Liam says, making Louis scowl around the glass.

“Fuck you,” Louis snaps, then collapses against the couch, slinging his arm over his eyes. “Can you close the blinds? It's way too bright in here.”

“Yeah, of course.” Liam stands, heading over to the blinds and pulling the string. “Want me to put the telly on?”

“Sure,” Louis responds. “Grab a  _Castle_  DVD, will you? Shows are shit at this hour.”

“What one?” Liam asks.

“The one where Alexis has a hangover. I want to reassure myself by watching an episode where I'm not the only one who made a dumbass decision,” Louis tells him. When Liam looks stunned and confused, Louis rolls his eyes. “Season five, disc one, episode one.”

“Thank you.” Liam skims over the DVDs on Louis' shelf, stopping at season five of  _Castle_ and pulling it out. He takes the first disc out of the case, popping it in the player and turning on the telly. Liam selects the first episode, pressing play and relaxing against the sofa cushions.

“Sex.” Louis giggles to himself as the scene shows Beckett and Castle waking up together. It's a continuation of how they ended season four and not that funny. It only becomes a little humorous when Martha comes home before she's supposed to, which forces Beckett to hide in Castle's closet.

“I dont understand how you like this show so much.” Liam shakes his head, but he has a grin on his face. “It's good, don't get me wrong, but aren't there better things to watch?”

“Nope,” Louis says, not even looking up. He rubs his temple with his pointer finger, trying to coax away the pain that the Advil hasn't relieved.

From out of the corner of his eye, Louis spots a glint similar to the one of the binoculars he saw yesterday. This time, he can't decide if it's the hangover, real life, or if he's truly gone crazy.

He taps Liam's shoulder. “Please tell me you see that.”

Liam looks to where Louis is pointing, narrowing his eyes so he can get a better look. After a long minute, he shakes his head, fixing his gaze back on the telly.

“Sorry, bro, I don't see anything,” he says.

Louis feels like he's going to scream.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

They've one their first game of the season. For celebration, the whole team and the coach have gathered at a Dairy Queen. Louis has a Chocolate Xtreme blizzard in his hands, cheering the loudest. He gets the most excited out of everyone, therefore making him qualified to eat a large blizzard with fries on the side.

Len grins from across the table, chocolate from his dipped ice cream cone staining his teeth. He lets out a sudden cheer, banging the table while saying, “We won, lads!”

Niall then screeches as loud as he can, earning glares from the diners and the workers. Zayn just smiles; he's quiet in these types of situations. He likes to cheer, but he prefers to do so respectfully, which means whooping in the middle of Dairy Queen is out of question.

“Make sure you're at tomorrow's practice for eight thirty,” the coach reminds everyone. He sighs when the table collectively groans. “We want to continue to win, right?”

Louis just rolls his eyes and shovels a spoonful of his blizzard in his mouth when Liam starts to complain about running laps at eight thirty in the morning.

“It's not so bad,” Louis tells him. “Just a bit of running.”

“You know I hate running.” Liam frowns, poking himself in the nose with the tip of his cone.

“Then why'd you become a football player?” Louis laughs loudly, his voice going higher. He shakes his head, smiling to himself and sticking a fry in his mouth.

“Shut up.” Liam crosses his arms over his chest. “Just shut up. Has anyone ever told you that you're an ass? Because you are.”

This just makes Louis laugh harder. Liam looks at him disapprovingly, but it eventualing degerates into a smile as well.

“Guess what.” Zayn taps Louis on the shoulder until he turns around.

“What?” Louis questions, eyebrows raised at Zayn's giddiness.

“Fifth Harmony is playing at Demi's concert tomorrow, so Perrie is going to fly out a see me,” Zayn says happily. His face is glowing, grin splitting his face with the size of it.

“Yeah?” Niall butts in. “That's awesome.”

“Yeah, Zayn, that's nice.” Louis pats his shoulder, offering him his fries, which Zayn enthusiastically digs into.

“I wish Sophia would come visit me,” Liam says, and that's the end of the conversation and all the happiness in the air.

Niall makes a humming noise, his attention returning to his burger. Zayn pulls Louis' tray of fries over, proceeding to finish them off. Liam joins in with the rest of the team and Louis looses himself in his head, daydreaming.

He props his head on his heads, his brain making him eat without him registering it. He blinks slowly, scanning over all the faces. Louis recognizes the one of the boy from the club last weekend immediately. He turns to Niall.

“Hey, I'm just going to run to the loo. I'll be back in a minute.”

Niall eyes him up and down. His mouth contorts into a smirk after taking in Louis' posture.

“No, you're not.” He grins wickedly. “You're about to hit on someone. Tell me, who's the lucky guy?”

“Uh, no one,” Louis stutters. He drums his fingers on his thigh.

“You're sure?” Niall looks like he wants to double over and laugh at any given moment. His eyebrows raise and his lips purse, sending a confession tumbling out of Louis' lips before he can even think about it.

“It's the guy I hooked up,” he says, pointing towards the male standing in line with his hair tucked up under a beanie. “Should I talk to him, or is that weird?”

Niall's shoulders shake with a silent laugh. “Go talk to him,” he encourages. “It's not weird. Ask for his number.”

“Yeah, alright.” Louis stands up, rolling his shoulders back. “Okay. This shouldn't be too hard.”

“Are you nervous?” Niall gasps. “The all powerful Louis Tomlinson never gets nervous.”

Louis cuffs him upside the head. “Shut up.”

Sobering up, Niall says, “Go talk to him. I can be your wing-man.”

“You are not being my wing-man,” Louis disagrees. “Remember what happened last time?”

Niall flings his hands up. “You were the one who ordered the wine.”

“And you were the dumbass who knocked it over,” Louis fires back. “You're not being my wing-man, Niall.”

“Fine,” he huffs. Niall snatches Louis' blizzard. “I hope you know that I'm going to finish this.”

“Go ahead, Zayn's already got my fries. I'll just eat the ice cream I have in my freezer tonight while watching the telly.” Louis shrugs.

“ _Castle_  is on tonight, isn't it?” Niall rolls his eyes.

“Well, it is Monday.” Louis winks. “I'll be back in a few minutes.”

“It's going to take you way longer than that to get the guy's number,” Niall states. “He's gorgeous.”

Louis flicks him in the ear. “Shut up.”

“Just saying,” Niall mutters, shoving a spoonful of Louis' abandoned ice cream in his mouth as he walks away.

“Don't,” Louis tosses over his shoulder. Niall's cackle follows shortly after.

Louis stand behind the guy in line, wringing his hands together as he builds up the courage to talk to him. He was too drunk at the time they first met, so he has no recollection of his name. It starts with an H, Louis knows that for a fact, but the rest is drawing a blank.

The guy seems to take notice in Louis' hand reaching out before being pulled away, for he turns around and offers him a smile before his eyebrows crease and his head cocks to the side.

“I know you from somewhere,” he declares.

“We hooked up on Friday,” Louis blurts. “My name's Louis. I was a little too drunk to remember yours, though.”

“It's Harry,” the guy replies. He looks a little off.

Louis snaps his fingers. “Knew it started with an H.”

“Yeah.” Harry smiles. “Did you need anything, or did you just want to come say hi?”

“I need your number,” Louis says without thinking. He stutters at Harry's snort, attempting to redeem himself. “I mean, I would like your number. Oh, for fuck's sake. Can I have your number please, Harry?”

Harry shakes his head in amusement, giggling. “Okay. Pass me your phone, then.”

Louis slips it out of his pocket, handing it to Harry. He twiddles his thumbs as he waits for Harry to enter in his number. It should be more awkard, considering the last time they met Harry was sucking him off and Louis gave him a handjob, but it's not.

“Here you go.” Harry hands Louis back his phone, smiling.

“Do you want to go out sometime?” Louis asks.

Harry twitches, his face breaking out into an even larger grin. “Okay.”

Louis decides then that this kid is definitely not normal, but he smiles anyway.

“Great. I should get back to my team now.” He jerks a finger at their table. However, before he leaves, he leans to to whisper in Harry's ear. “By the way, that was the best blowjob I've ever had.”

He catches sight of Harry's smirk as he walks away.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

His fingers grasp the pencil, setting it down on the table. He tucks a ringlet behind his ear the letter into the envelope. He smiles devilishly once the stamp has been placed in the corner.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

“Just text him already.” Zayn shoves a handful of popcorn in his mouth, his eyes trained on the telly, which is airing  _The Avengers._

“I can't,” Louis whines. He stares at his phone, hovering over Harry's contact.

Zayn sighs, pausing the film and turning to look at Louis with an expectant expression. “And why's that?”

“Because... Because—Ugh!” Louis flops back against the couch, throwing his phone to the floor. “This is ridiculous.”

“You're damn right.” Zayn snorts. “Why don't you just text him? It's not that hard. Just touch his name, type in want you want, and press send.”

Louis turns his head and scowls. “Thanks, asshole.”

“You're very welcome.” Zayn turns back to the telly, pressing play on the remote.

Louis slaps him in the arm but bends down to retrieve his phone. His fingers hover over the keyboard, debating to type. Zayn glances over, rolling his eyes and ripping the phone from Louis' gasp. He types something out quickly before passing it back, locked.

“What did you do?” Louis demands. He unlocks his phone, going wide eyed. “What the hell, Zayn?”

Zayn smirks. “You can thank me now.”

“Why would I do that?” Louis glares at him. “'Hey, it's Louis'. What were you thinking? He's going to think of me as some sort of freak!”

“Relax, Lou.” Zayn touches his knee. “You're stressing about something that's not at all important. So do me a favour and grow the hell up, okay?”

Louis brandishes his middle finger. “I get it, I'm a big wussy baby, but you don't need to shove it down my throat.”

“I kind of do, though.” Zayn chuckles.

Louis goes to punch him in the shoulder, but his phone beeps, causing him to stop in his tracks. He goes completely still.

“Louis, chill,” Zayn says. He picks up Louis' phone and holds it out to him. “Here, check your messages. It might not even be Harry, you know.”

Louis shakes his head to clear his thoughts. “Right, yeah.”

Slowly, he slides his finger across the screen, opening the symbol for messages. Harry's name is displayed on the screen, making his shoulders go taught.

“Open it,” Zayn instructs. He's somewhere to Louis' left now, standing by the kitchen counter. “I'm going to get your mail.”

“Wait, Zayn,” Louis calls for him. “I need support for when I read this text.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, picking up the key to Louis' mail slot and dangling it in front of his face. “I'll be back in a few minutes. I'd be faster, but you wanted to live on the third floor with a balcony.”

Louis shrugs. “The view is nice.”

“If you have a death wish,” Zayn counters. He slips his feet into a pair of Louis' sandals and exits the flat, leaving Louis alone with an unopened text from Harry.

“Okay, Lou, it's time to open this text,” Louis coaxes himself. He cracks his knuckles and his neck. “It's just a text, stop freaking out.”

He opens the message, scanning over it before going back and really reading it. It's short, just a simple hello with a smiley face, but it's enough to put a giddy smile on Louis' face.

“Dear god, stop,” he commands himself, scrubbing his hands over his face to try and erase the grin.

 _How are you?_ Louis texts back. He's sobered up now, his phone resting on the table and the film continuing to play.

“So?” Zayn's voice scares him.

Louis jumps, hand over his heart as he pretends to be dramatically out of breath. He rolls his head until he hears a pop.

“I texted him back,” he informs Zayn.

“I told you he'd reply,” Zayn states indignantly. He throws himself down on the couch, picking up his near-empty popcorn bowl and shoving a handful into his mouth.

“Can you stop eating for three seconds?” Louis asks as his phone beeps with another text from Harry.

“I could,” Zayn replies, raising his eyebrows.

Louis scowls. “Please.”

Zayn smirks and sets the bowl to the side. “There.”

“'I'm good, thanks. How are you?'” Louis reads. “What should I say?”

“Tell him you're good.” Zayn shrugs, throwing a piece of popcorn in the air and catching it with his lips. “Does it even matter?”

“Yes, it does. This is important,” Louis says. “How did you do it with Perrie?”

“I said hello, she said it back. I asked her how she was and she asked me the same thing. We talked about the  _X Factor_ and football. That is the sum of our first conversation,” Zayn tells him.

“That's it? It's that simple?” Louis asks.

“Yeah, Lou, it's that simple,” Zayn responds. “Can I watch the film and eat my popcorn now?”

Louis nods, keeping his eyes fixed on his phone. His fingers tap out a message, but quickly erases it.

“I don't know what to say,” he admits.

Zayn sighs, pausing the film for what feels like the hundredth time. “Just tell him you're good and ask him what he's up to today. Oh, and you have a letter that's not bills for a change.”

“I'll get it after I text Harry back,” Louis says. He finally manages to text  _I'm great. Doing anything special today?_ back.

“I'll get it for you,” Zayn disagrees. He stands up and heads to the table, picking up the letter and throwing it on Louis' lap. “I'm going to press play now, so please don't bother me until it's over.”

“I can do that.” Louis scans over the envelope, frowning at what he sees. “There isn't a return address on this.”

Zayn peers at the upper left hand corner and purses his lips. “Weird. You still going to open it?”

“Yeah, I am,” Louis replies. He tears open the flap, pulling out a handwritten note. It's not very long, but long enough to be considered more than the length of a grocery list.

“What is it?” Zayn asks after Louis has scanned through.

“What?” Louis looks up, his eyebrows knitted together. “Oh, uh, it's a fan letter.”

“Oh, really?” A smile spreads over Zayn's face, completely diverse from the one on Louis'. Zayn frowns at that. “What's wrong?”

“This letter,” Louis answers. He thrusts the piece of paper at Zayn. “Here, read this.”

Zayn's forehead creases, but he picks up the letter anyway, picking through the words with care. His mouth drops open at one point and he starts to read aloud.

“You make my day when I see you play footie. I love you and you make me smile just by being a member of society. I wish I can see your face when you sleep; it must be adorable.” He throws his hands up, an incredulous look on his face. “What the fuck is this?”

“I told Niall and Liam I'm being stalked and they didn't believe me. So, if you're going to tell me the same thing, spare me and get the hell out now,” Louis snaps.

“Louis,” Zayn splutters, throwing the letter down and touching his shoulder, “does it look like I'm going to say that? What's gotten into you?”

“Stress,” Louis replies, curling his fingers into his hair. “Practice is ridiculously hard, games speak for themselves, and this stalker thing is just fucked up.”

“I believe you,” Zayn says after a few moments.

“You do?” Louis turns his head to look at him with a stunned expression.

“Yeah.” Zayn nods. “But I don't know what you want me to do. There isn't a return address, so it's not like I can do anything to fix it.”

“We can tell the police,” Louis suggests. He shakes his head. “No, that's stupid.”

“It's not stupid, it's just not needed. Give it a while, and if it's still acting up, then go talk to an officer.” Zayn stops the film, which is rolling the credits. “I'm going to head out, alright? Call me if you need anything.”

“Okay.” Louis stares at his phone, waiting for a reply that has yet to come.

Zayn clenches his hand in the junction of Louis' shoulder and collarbone. “I mean it, mate. Niall's an ass sometimes and Liam's too paranoid to think things through. Don't worry about it.”

Louis offers a smile. “Thanks, Zayn.”

“See you at practice tomorrow,” Zayn says, gathering his jumper and his shoes.

 _Nothing special. Just sending a few letters_ displays across Louis' phone screen.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Louis chuckles, pressing his phone tighter to his ear. He listens to Harry's melodic giggles, smiling like an idiot as he hears a story about Harry's day.

“That's amazing, Harry,” he says. Harry's smile is practically audible.

“Thanks. Clovers are sick, yeah?” Harry questions with a laugh.

“Of course.” Louis bites his cheek to keep himself from grinning like an idiot. “Hey, you know how I asked you if you wanted to go out that one time?”

“Of course I do,” Harry replies. “I'm still waiting for that, by the way.”

“I know you are,” Louis responds. “I was thinking we could go out tonight.”

Harry makes a humming noise. “Sure. I may have thought of a few date ideas since you asked me for my number.”

“Have you now?” Louis says in a teasing tone. “Where were you thinking of going?”

“I had a few ideas,” Harry repeats.

“Like what?” Louis encourages.

“We could go out to dinner, or go for a walk, or catch a film. Though, the last one isn't all that creative,” Harry replies.

“I think I'd like to go for a walk,” Louis decides.

“Are you sure?” Harry sounds surprised. “We don't have to. It was a dumb idea, anyway.”

“Hey, hey, it wasn't dumb,” Louis soothes. “Relax, Harry. I would love to go on a walk with you. I'll text you my address and you can come over at six. I like going on evening walks by the lake.”

“That sounds lovely,” Harry agrees. “Okay, we'll do that, but on the condition of you planning our next date.”

“Who said we're going to have another date?” Louis asks.

“Me,” Harry answers cheekily.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Twenty minutes before Harry is scheduled to show up, Louis Snapchats Liam a photo of his outfit. He's wearing a pair of jeans that's not too tight and not too loose, his favourite pair of Trainers, and a jumper that's slightly over sized.

Liam Snapchats him back with a photo of his fingernail and the caption  _it's fine, you look nice._ Louis has to follow up with an  _are you sure?_ because he's Louis and he worries over everything.

The next photo is of Liam's dog. Louis knows it's an old one because Liam gave Loki to Danielle when they split.  _You're fine. I'm logging off now_ is the caption. Louis gives himself a once-over, still unsatisfied.

He logs onto Instagram, posting a picture of his outfit.  _Going for a walk_ is his caption. He waits a few moments, likes and comments already starting to fill his feed. Most are wishing him a good time and telling him they love him or praying for his next match to be a win, which is not what he wants.

The first comment that tells Louis he looks cute puts a smile on his face. He's used to it, people calling him attractive, but it always feels good. Because he has a few minutes to spare, he goes to her profile, scrolling through her pictures. It's a fan-page for a few bands and artists she likes, but there's one of those Man Crush Mondays that's been recently posted. He taps the photo, seeing that she's tagged him in the comments.  _My Man Crush Monday goes out to this babe. Love you, Louis_  the caption. His smile spreads. He doesn't comment, just likes the photo and closes the app as a knock sounds at the door.

“Coming!” Louis calls. He locks his phone and shoves it into his pocket, heading over to the door and pulling it open. “Hi.”

A goofy grin spreads over Harry's face. “Hi. You look nice.”

“Thanks.” Louis scratches the back of his neck. It's really Harry who looks amazing, despite his sweatpants and the odd headband in his hair.

“It keeps it off my forehead when I get too hot,” Harry says when he catches Louis staring.

“It's interesting.” Louis laughs. He clears his throat, then. “Want to get going before the bugs start to swarm?”

“Yeah, sure.” Harry nods.

Louis locks the door, turning to face Harry with a gentle expression. He reaches for his hand slowly, his eyebrows raised in a questioning way. In confirmation, Harry locks his fingers with Louis, sealing their hands together without a word.

The silence blankets the air comfortably for the first half hour of their walk. The two of them travel through the backwoods of a park, stopping when they reach a bridge. Louis pulls his hand out of Harry's to fold them atop the railing, resting his chin on his arms. Harry mimics the position.

“It's nice out here, it's it?” Harry speaks, the first words they've said it what feels like forever. He tosses a stone out, skipping it over the water's surface.

“Yeah,” Louis breathes, staring at the way the water ripples from the stone's disturbance.

“My mum used to bring my sister and I here for bike rides,” Harry says, not filtering the thoughts that pop into his head before he speaks them. “But that was before she got a divorce and married Robin.”

“Do you like Robin?” Louis asks, looking over to stare at the way Harry's lips are slightly parted.

Harry shrugs. “Kind of. He's a nice enough guy, but I miss my dad. He moved to Manchester so I never really see him anymore. I'm sure it has something to do with me, but yeah, I like Robin.”

Louis narrows his eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry replies. “Why do you ask?”

“Because your fingers are twitching,” Louis answers, eyes zeroing in on them.

“Oh.” Harry squeezes his hands together. “I'm alright, yeah. Uh, do you mind if I take my pills? I forgot to take them this morning. It's probably why I'm twitching.”

“Oh, uh, sure.” Louis swallows uncomfortably.

He tries to turn his head away from Harry, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. It's difficult when he hears Harry's medicine bottle lid pop open. It becomes one of those easier said than done situations.

“They keep the spasms at bay,” Harry informs him once he catches Louis' stare. “It's nothing serious, just annoying.”

Louis nods. “Okay,” he says quietly. He's really confused and a little uncomfortable.

“I'm fine,” Harry says with a scowl. He pinches himself in the arm a few times. “Just fine. Fine, fine, fine.”

Louis decides he's sick of hearing the word fine. Harry is clearly not fine and one look is all it takes to confirm that. Louis always knew something is up with him, but now it's like a smack to the face when Harry says, “I wish I could jump off that bridge sometimes.”

“You wouldn't, would you?” Louis asks.

“I don't know.” Harry shrugs. “I don't think I have the courage.”

To hear him talk about suicide so casually brings an uneasy feeling to life in Louis' stomach. He feels like he's going to be sick.

“I wish you didn't feel this way,” Louis tells him honestly. He's backed away a little, trying to give Harry some space but not knowing which one of them needs it.

“Why?” Harry asks, coming to his senses. Louis would like to think it's him who made Harry snap out of it, but he knows it's the medicine that did so.

“Because I like you,” Louis answers. “I wouldn't want you to kill yourself.”

“You barely even know me.” Harry throws a rock from the gravel path down into the water. It hits the surface with a splash, causing ripples to fan out around the impact zone.

“I want to,” Louis murmurs. He's looking into Harry's eyes now, penetrating his soul with his persistent stare. Harry closes his eyes to get away from it.

“Stop,” he commands, pressing his lips together and turning away. “Let's head back, it's getting late.”

“Yeah, okay.” Louis doesn't reach for Harry's hand this time. Instead, he keeps his arms pressed to his sides, walking stiffly. The bridge creaks under their feet. He thinks Harry hopes it'll give away.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

_I'm sorry._

Louis sends Harry the text a few days after their disastrous date. The team lost their previous game, with Louis' playing being a little off and his teamwork suffering because he was so lost in his own thoughts.

Louis' got several calls and texts from his teammates clouding his inbox without a single one from Harry, which is the most important person to him at this moment.

 _Can we talk over coffee?_ Louis texts him again. He wonders if he sounds too desperate. The thoughts are pushed away as a check mark appears beside the text, meaning Harry's read it. A little chat bubble materializes. Louis is all nerves, chewing on his fingernail.

It feels like hours before the text finally comes through. It's a simple  _Sure, I'll be over in half an hour_ , making Louis wonder what took so long for Harry to type it. He agrees nonetheless, hopping up and hurling himself into the shower.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

With twitching muscles, he stands in front of Louis' door, smirking to himself.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

When the doorbell rings, Louis' pacing around the kitchen, his thoughts swirling. He wrings his hands out, pressing the heels of his hands over his eyes.

“Shit,” he curses in a whispered tone.

“Louis?” Harry calls through the door, banging on it some more. “It's me. Are you in there?”

“Coming!” Louis shouts back.

He pulls at his hair before he heads over to the door, yanking it open to allow Harry to slip inside.

“Hey,” Louis says nervously, scratching at the skin around his thumb with the nail of his index finger.

Harry slips his shoes off and offers Louis a tiny smile. “Hi. You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” Louis nods. “The coffee is ready. There's some scones and jam, too. I don't know if you like that kind of stuff or not.”

“It's fine,” Harry replies, examining the room. His eyes fall on the dining table that's set with pastries and two mugs. He sits down at the table, staring at Louis until he gets the hint and takes a seat as well.

Harry reaches for a scone and a knife, cutting the pastry open and reaching for the jam. Louis watches him carefully as his fingers twitch around the knife handle and he points it at a suspicious angle.

“Did you take your medication today?” Louis asks, breaking the silence that had settled over them like a snug but uncomfortable blanket.

Harry scowls, dropping the knife down on his plate. “No, I did not,” he answers. “Should I have?”

Louis swallows hard and sighs. He runs his fingers through his hair, desperately trying to calm himself down before he explodes and screams at Harry.

“Yes,” he finally says, “you should have. Harry, it can't be healthy for you to consistently be not taking your medication.”

“Is that why you wanted me to come over?” Harry demands in a tone that is suddenly angry. “I don't need a lecture, Louis. I'm an adult, I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” Louis assures him. “I don't doubt that, Harry. I'm just trying to tell you that I worry about you.”

“Like I said last week, you barely know me,” Harry mutters.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I want to get to know you?” Louis asks.

Harry coughs, dropping his scone. “Yeah, right,” he scoffs, recovering. “I'm Harry, nothing special. Never have been, never will be.”

“I wish you would putting yourself down,” Louis admits. “You're special and your life is precious.”

Harry shakes his head, digging in his jumper's pocket for his pills. He pops one in his mouth, swallowing it with a gulp of coffee.

“It's really not,” he says. “I'm really not.”

“I guess it's all a matter of perspective,” Louis continues. “In mine, I think you're pretty great. However, in yours, you can't seem to understand how precious you are.”

Harry shakes his head again. “Stop. I can't have you lying to me, Louis.”

Louis groans. “Harry, I'm not lying. Will you stop spitting nonsense and fucking listen to me?”

Harry swallows but stays quiet, Louis sharp tone shocking him into silence. Louis breathes out and reaches for his hand, slowly threading their fingers together. Harry's small smile is worth the pain he'll surely feel in the future.

“Are you going to listen now?” Louis asks teasingly.

Harry laughs quietly. “Yeah. I'm listening.”

“Good.” Louis smiles. He leans forward to press the tips of their noses together. “You're a gift to the world. Did you know that?”

“No,” Harry replies, his voice soft and gentle and his tone a little surprised.

“You should know that,” Louis says. “Want to know what else you don't know?”

“What is it?” Harry's eyes flicker down to Louis' lips before they return to his eyes.

“I like you,” Louis answers in the simplest tone he can manage. “I also may want to kiss you.”

Harry grins. “I was hoping you'd say that.”

Louis knows the answer, but he bites his lip and teases just to be a pain. “Why is that?”

“Because I really want to kiss you, too,” Harry responds.

A grin spreads over Louis' lips and he leans closer, slotting their lips together carefully. His hand comes up to cup Harry's cheek to pull him in and kiss him some more when he tries to pull away.

“Yeah, I like you,” Louis says around Harry's lips, causing him to laugh and part from him, resting their foreheads together.

Their mouths are parted, breath mingling together. Harry smiles and close his eyes, aligning his nose with his forehead so he and Louis can be even closer together. Louis tilts his head up slightly and presses their lips together again, softly nipping Harry's bottom lip.

“Like, really like you,” he says, kissing Harry on the cheek.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The next letter comes soon after the first. There isn't a return address again, but the handwriting is the same. This time it's  _I dream about how perfect of a kisser you must be_ scrawled out across the lines in bold, curvy font.

It's two days after his kiss with Harry. And what a great kiss that was. It was the best kiss Louis' ever had and it will probably be his favourite until the day he dies.

The letter has a date on it, stamped into the upper left hand corner where the return address should be. It's labelled a week before the date he and Harry kissed. It's a little unsettling.

It's so unsettling that he calls Niall when Zayn would be the best option. Niall is too much of a realist for situations like these.

“Hello?” he sounds sleepy when he picks up, due to the game they had played the previous week and how late he likes to stay up at night.

“It's Louis.” Niall's tone also shows that he didn't bother to check the ID.

“Mate, it's eight in the morning, why are you calling me?” Niall demands, his tone irritated.

“Niall, I know you said you didn't want to hear it, but I am honestly being stalked,” Louis says. “I've got two letters so far and they're really creepy.”

Niall sighs. “Give me an hour, I'll be over.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

When he shows up, Niall's hair is wet and slicked back and he's got a pair of jeans on. He doesn't even give Louis a chance to say hello, just demands, “Show me the letters.”

“Over there, on the table.” Louis points to the small coffee table by the arm chair.

Niall strides over, picking them up. Louis watches in anticipation as he starts to read and bites his lip when Niall's mouth parts and he looks confused. He fidgets.

“Wow,” Niall finally speaks. “That's... You've got quite the charm, Lou. According to your admirer. That's very creepy, I must say.”

“Do you believe me now?” Louis asks.

Niall shows a look of hesitation before he nods. “Yeah, I do. I'm sorry for not listening to you before, Louis. I should have believed you.”

Louis shrugs, but he's screaming  _“I know, that's what I've been trying to tell you!”_ inside. He simply says, “It's fine, honest. I would've been skeptical, too.”

“Did it work out with that lad from Dairy Queen?” Niall questions suddenly, taking a seat on the couch. Louis flops down beside him with a smile.

“It did,” he replies. He's never grinned this big before. “Took me about a week and tons of Zayn's coaxing, but I finally texted him. His name's Harry, by the way. Styles is his last name, I believe.”

Niall's eyebrows furrow a little before he shakes head and smiles. “Good for you, mate,” he encourages. Are you dating now? Or...”

“It's casual,” Louis answers. “We hold hands and kiss and stuff, but it's not official. Like, we haven't asked each other if we have a title yet, or anything.”

“Sounds complicated.” Niall frowns.

“It's not.” Louis shrugs. “I guess it sounds that way, but it isn't. I'll ask him when the time is right, or he'll ask me. It's not a big deal.”

“Boring!” Niall enthuses. Louis rolls his eyes. “You know who you should go out with?”

“Who?” Louis asks, humouring him.

“Nathan Fillion, considering you're always talking about him,” Niall answers.

Louis crinkles his nose. “Nah, Jon Huertas is  _way_ hotter. Besides, it's not just Nathan I talk about, it's the whole  _Castle_  cast.”

Niall sighs, pretending to be disapproving. “Lou, if you're going to like anyone from  _Castle_ , at least chose Seamus Dever. Irish and blue-eyed truimphs all.”

“Sure,” Louis agrees with a laugh. “Sure, Niall, I'll go with Seamus, okay?”

“Okay.” Niall smirks, then adds, “Ask Harry out soon.”

Louis chokes.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Louis does ask Harry out. Eventually. It's on one of the many dates they plan without talking about what they could be. It's to a book store this time, because the two of them like to read and Harry said there was this book that Louis just has to read. So he agreed. He's quite whipped, but Louis likes the way that sounds. He's whipped for Harry. Yeah, that's definitely okay.

“Here it is!” Harry suddenly calls out. Louis looks up from where he'd been flipping through a book on the other side of the young adult section and strides over to Harry.

“What have you got there?” he asks.

“ _The Perks Of Being A Wallflower_ ,” Harry answers, handing Louis the book. It's small and skinny, barely over two hundred pages with the most plain cover art he's ever seen.

“This?” Louis asks in bewilderment.

Harry rolls his eyes. “It's a good book, Louis. It's relatable.”

Louis skims over the jacket, scanning over the description. He raises his eyebrow at Harry.

“A book about molestation, homophobes, drug addicts, and depression is relatable to you?” he questions.

Harry shrugs. “It reminds me of my teenage years.”

_Oh._

Of course it does, with Harry twitching and spasming every time he doesn't take his medication.

Harry clears his throat. Louis says, “Right. So, I'll get it.”

“You will?” Harry lights up.

“Yep.” Louis nods. “We'll be fine if you don't make me read  _The Fault In Our Stars_. I draw the line at that one.”

“Come on, it's good literature,” Harry argues.

“No way.” Louis scrunches up his nose. “What's so appealing about a book with the only plot being to fall in love?”

“Augustus dies at the end, so it's not plotless,” Harry disagrees.

“Is too,” Louis pushes. “Killing someone off for the sake of killing someone off does not make a plot, it makes the author desperate for an ending because they can't pace themselves.”

Harry sighs. “Let's just agree to disagree, yeah?”

“Sure,” Louis says. He bites his lip and works up the courage. “Can we agree on being boyfriends, though?”

“Did you just...” Harry splutters.

Louis actually smiles. “Yeah, I did.”

“I accept.” Harry smiles back. “I just don't accept your opinion on  _The Fault In Our Stars._ ”

“That's okay,” Louis says. “You can ready shitty books all you want, I don't care. Just leave me out of it.”

Harry laughs.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The next time Louis sees Harry, it's a week later and he's read  _The Perks Of Being A Wallflower_ seven times; once per day. He cried the first three times through. He doesn't know how he could have ever insulted the book at first because of how amazing it is. It's so amazing that he's invited Harry over to watch the film with him. Harry's already seen it, of course, but that was years ago.

With Harry snuggled under his arm, Louis says, “Patrick is one of the best characters ever created.”

“I know.” Harry smiles.

“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room. And notice how I said girl instead of person, because let's face it, I'd smoke all you bitches,” Patrick says.

Louis snorts. “Honestly, he's amazing.”

“I know,” Harry repeats.

Louis gasps “this part, this part” as Charlie kisses Sam. Mary Elizabeth is his girlfriend and Patrick said to kiss the prettiest girl in the room. He kissed Sam, not Mary Elizabeth.

“Seriously, Lou, be quiet.” Harry says. “You're being really annoying.”

“Sorry,” Louis murmurs. He twirls one of Harry's ringlets around his finger, humming in content. He bursts out laughing at something particularly funny Patrick does. He's never been so in love with someone before. But, then again, he knows Harry.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

“I'm so close.” He smirks to himself. “Everything is in the right spot.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Louis plans on telling Harry after four months, but another letter comes and his plans basically fly out the window.

“Come look at this,” Louis says, waving the letter around. “'I know where you are. I really love you. You make me happy'. This is getting so creepy. If I get one more, I'm going to call the police.”

“Yeah, it's weird.” Harry fidgets. His demeanor is suddenly strange.

“Everything okay?” Louis asks slowly, watching Harry with squinted eyes.

“Yep, everything's fine,” Harry replies, starting for the door. “I should go. I have work in the morning.”

He doesn't even give Louis a chance to comprehend it, just bolts, leaving Louis alone with “I love you, Harry” swirling around his head.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

At the next game, Harry is there. Funnily enough, Louis' stalker isn't.

He posts a picture of his jersey and the caption  _Game tonight. Go Rovers!_ It gets over one thousand “I love you, Louis!”s. He's yet to hear it from Harry. He still hasn't told him how he feels.

“Ew, running.” As per usual, Liam complains all through the warm up. Louis feels strangling him some days.

He rolls his eyes and says, “It's just a lap, Liam. Stop complaining for once in your life and just run.”

“Yeah, Liam,” Zayn puts in, jogging up beside him and Louis.

“Oh, screw you, Malik,” Liam spits. “Nobody asked you.”

Niall cackles as he passes the three of them. Louis sprints to catch up with him, then they fall into a steady pace. Zayn decides to be a good friend and run with Liam. He hates running, too, but he pretends not to.

As they're kicking around footballs during warm up, Niall looks at Louis and says, “You haven't told him yet, have you?”

“What?” Louis coughs, giving the ball a sharp kick in hopes to distract Niall from what he knows is coming.

“Harry. You haven't told him you love him, have you?” Niall clarifies.

Louis shakes his head. “It hasn't been the right time. Besides, how do you know I love him? I never told any of you guys.”

“You're happier when he's around.” Niall shrugs. He doesn't say anything else. Louis thinks harder than he has in a while.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The Doncaster Rovers lose the game. They go to Dairy Queen anyway. Harry tags along. The team razzes Louis for it, but he doesn't care, just kisses Harry smack on the lips to shut them up. It only ends up fueling their fire.

“Want to split a sundae?” Louis asks Harry as they stand in line. Louis has his arms over his chest and his hip jutted out. Harry's fiddling, feeling awkward with being around so many people he doesn't know.

“Sure,” Harry answers. “Chocolate sauce?”

Louis smiles. “Of course,” he agrees and steps forward to place the order.

Harry protests about Louis paying, but with a kiss on his lips from Louis, he looses focus on the argument at hand.

As they wait for their large sundae, Louis pulls Harry close by his waist, resting their foreheads together as they stand side by side. Harry doesn't cuddle, PDA not his thing, but he leans against Louis. His hands start to tremble.

“Louis.” Harry pats at his side, showing him his hands. “Louis, I forgot to take my medication.” He bites his lip and prays for Louis to understand.

“Um.” Louis' eyes widen. The ice cream is being placed on the table. He thanks the employee and says to Harry, “Go to the washroom and take a pill. I'll cover for you, okay?”

Harry nods, the tremor travelling up to his shoulder. He scampers off to the washroom, leaving Louis to collect the sundae and bring it back to the table where the rest of the team is sitting.

“Where did Harry go?” Ross asks as Louis sits down.

“To the washroom,” Louis answers, digging into the ice cream with his plastic spoon.

Harry returns in a few moments, his pupils dilated and his hands looking limp. Louis remembers him saying the medication makes his body feel numb. He looks it.  

“Hey,” Harry says, sitting down beside Louis. He picks up a spoon and starts eating, pretending like nothing is wrong. Louis thinks he's a scarily good actor.

“Hi, Harry,” Brian greets.

Harry waves shyly and takes another bite of ice cream, discreetly brushing his elbow against Louis' under the table. Louis squeezes his thigh and dips the spoon into the chocolate sauce.

“Sophia's in town,” Liam announces, taking a bite of the chocolate coating his vanilla ice cream.

“So is Perrie,” Zayn adds. “Girls have a in between for the Neon Lights and Salute tour, so she's home.”

“That's nice, Zayn. Liam.” Niall gives them a smile. “I know it's been a while, but pace yourselves, okay?”

It takes them a minute, but once they get it, their eyes widen. Zayn is the first to react.

“Niall!” He slaps him in the arm and looks horrified. “What happened to maturing?”

“This is more fun,” Louis says, laughing. Even Harry, the one who prefers to stay quiet and blend in, smiles and huffs a laugh. Louis strokes his thigh with his knuckles.

“Maybe we can do a triple date,” Liam suggests. “You know, me and Sophia, Zayn and Perrie, and you and Harry.”

“That's not a bad idea,” Zayn agrees.

Louis purses his lips. “What do you think, Harry? Triple date sound okay?”

“Sure.” Harry shrugs. He pushes the rest of the sundae at Louis and sets his spoon on the table, curling up to press his face into Louis' neck. He yawns.

“Tired, Harry?” Colin chuckles.

Harry shrugs again, turning to mouth at Louis' neck. “I feel twitchy,” he whispers.

“Still?” Louis whispers back. When Harry nods, he shoves the last three bites of the sundae in his mouth and stands up, grabbing Harry's arm and pulling him up with him.

“Where are you two going?” Peter asks.

“Yeah,” Gabriel chimes in, “leaving so soon?”

“Yeah. Harry's tired and I'm his ride home,” Louis says. “I'll see you guys at the next practice. Text me about the triple date, Liam.”

“Will do.” Liam nods.

“Maybe you should just move in together,” Zayn speaks up.

Harry's and Louis' eyes go wide and their mouths go slack.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Louis tells Harry the tenth time they watch  _The Perks Of Being A Wallflower_ together. It's Christmas for them and Charlie and Sam are hanging around in Sam's bedroom.

“Charlie, I want to make sure the first person who kisses you loves you. Okay?” Sam is saying.

Charlie's breath stutters and he nods. Sam kisses him. When she pulls away, he goes in for more, but Sam backs up even more and tells him she loves him. Charlie says it back and hugs her.

“This is my favourite part,” Louis says, looking at Harry.

“Is it?” Harry inquires. He's smiling a little, like this is a game.

“Mm hmm,” Louis replies. “I love it.”

“Do you now?” Harry's eyes are twinkling.

“Want to know what else I love?” Louis asks with a mischievous smile.

“Sure,” Harry answers squirming.

“You,” Louis tells him. “I love you.”

Harry keens and pulls Louis in, murmuring “I love you, too” against his lips.

Louis whispers to him, “Maybe we should move in together.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 _Sophia and I will be at Barshu at five thirty_.  _Be there by five forty-five. Zayn said he and Perrie will be there by then, but he's always late, so I'm guessing they'll arrive around six_  reads the text from Liam.

Louis texts back  _Okay, sounds good_ and goes to find Harry, who is lost somewhere in their flat. Yes, they did move in together.

“Harry, where are you?” Louis calls.

“I'm getting ready to take a shower,” Harry calls back from the bathroom. “You can join me, if you want.”

“I think I'll do that,” Louis answers with a smile, heading into the room Harry's in. “It's four thirty, we have an hour and fifteen minutes before we're supposed to meet Liam and them at Barshu.” He strips out of his clothes and steps in the shower after Harry.

“What's Barshu?” Harry asks.

“Chinese restaurant,” Louis answers, reaching for the bottle of shampoo. He slicks his palms with it and reaches up to rub them in Harry's hair. “It's a good place and they have anything you can think of.”

Harry hums, tilting his head into Louis' hands. “Hmm, sounds lovely. Are Perrie and Sophia nice girls?”

“Oh, they're sweethearts.” Louis turns around, giving Harry room to rub at his body with the sponge. “They'll like you, don't worry.”

“What did Zayn mean about the girls having a break on tour?” Harry asks, ducking under the spray to rinse the suds out of his hair.

Louis hip-checks him out of the way to rinse the soap off his body, then grabs the sponge to rub it over Harry. Harry lathers shampoo over in his hair.

“Perrie's in a band called Little Mix,” Louis answers. “There's four of them; Perrie Edwards, Jesy Nelson, Leigh-Anne Pinnock, and Jade Thirlwall. They just finished touring with Demi Lovato on her Neon Lights tour and now they're doing their own called the Salute tour for their album called Salute.”

“Oh.” Harry's face is crinkled up. “That's a lot of words.”

Louis snorts. “I ramble a lot, get used to it.”

“You also quote  _Castle_ a lot,” Harry points out.

“Well, you quote  _The Fault In Our Stars_ a lot,” Louis argues. “If I have to deal with that, you have to deal with my  _Castle_ obsession.”

Harry giggles. “Deal.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

At five forty-five on the dot, Louis and Harry meet Liam and Sophia at their table in Barshu. As it was thought, Zayn and Perrie are fifteen minutes late. The food is already on the table and the four have already started eating without them.

“Hey, why didn't you wait for us?” Zayn frowns jokingly as he pulls a chair out for Perrie.

“You were late, as usual.” Sophia rolls her eyes. Harry sees how comfortable the girlfriends are with the friend group and wonders why he can't be like that. Louis squeezes his hand.

“How long has it been now, Lou?” Perrie asks, gesturing between him and Harry. Louis curses her; he wishes his friends would direct questions to Harry instead of just him.

“About five and a half months,” Louis says, taking a bite of a chicken ball. “Right, Harry? Almost six months?”

Harry chokes. “Yeah.”

Louis sighs and how shy he is. Humour is usually how he gets people to relax, but Harry is different. He can't make a joke to get Harry to crawl out from his shell. The only person who can make Harry do that is Harry.

He clears his throat. “How's tour planning going, Perrie?” he asks. “Gotten boring yet?”

“Just a little.” Perrie chuckles. “The girls keep me on my toes, though. Especially Jesy. She can never sit still for very long.”

“Bit of a loud mouth?” Harry speaks around a bite of sweet and sour pork.

He's stared at for a moment before Perrie snorts and says, “You can say that.”

“Louis is like that sometimes,” Harry continues. It's feels like his mouth can't be shut now, like it was opened and that's it, it's never going to be silenced.

“We know, Harry.” Liam laughs. “We grew up with the guy.”

Harry's cheeks flame. Louis shoots Liam a look. Harry doesn't look like he's going to say much else any time soon. Louis hates them all sometimes.

“Funny, Harry,” Louis attempts to soothe, “it's like you're pretending you're not loud yourself.”

Harry blushes when Louis winks at him, but he's visibly relaxed. Louis holds his hand under the table.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

“You're mine,” he says. “Mine, mine mine. All mine.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Eight months in, Louis' starting to realize how serious the relationship with Harry is. He's taking notice in how he'll drop everything for Harry if he needs something, how pet names seem to be used more than Harry's real name. Everything is Harry, Harry, Harry, and Louis doesn't even care.

Niall's noticed it, too, for he calls Louis in a frenzy one day, screaming down the line.

“Break up with Harry!” he commands, breathless and panting.

Taken aback, Louis splutters out, “Excuse me, Niall?”

“Harry, you've got to break up with him,” Niall clarifies. He never did grow out of the habit of never explaining himself.

“And why is that?” Louis demands. He's seething.

“I got this weird feeling when you first told me Harry's name,” Niall says. “It rang a bell. I looked it up, and bam, there it was. Harry's been to prison before, Louis... For stalking.”

“So?” It takes a moment for it to sink in and then Louis is muttering, “Oh, shit. You don't think Harry's the stalker, do you?”

“I'm thinking that, yes,” Niall confirms. “Just think about it, Lou, the letters and sightings basically stopped after Harry moved in with you. You still get a letter once in a while, but that's always easy to sneak. He can't really go out and watch you anymore because you're always with him.”

Things sink in. Things start to make sense. Louis almost drops the phone. Times when Harry has been so worried about Louis reading one of the letters he was supposedly writing to his family are starting to connect to the story Niall's spinning.

“Shit,” he swears again. “Shit, Niall—Niall, what do I do?”

“You call the police,” Niall says. “You fucking call the police and listen to his story after he's done telling it to the officer. If the cop believes it, you should.”

“I don't want him to go to jail,” Louis says. “I love him, Niall, I don't want him to go to jail. I'll talk to him about it. He'll confess, I know he will.”

Niall sighs. “Louis, you're so naive. Harry's obviously got something wrong with him, and you expect him to just say 'Oh, Lou, yeah, I stalked you for nine months, but we love each other so it's forgivable'?”

“You don't know him, Niall.” Louis tugs at his hair, his hand clenching around his phone.

“It seems that you don't, either.” Niall speaks lowly, his speech slow.

“Fuck you,” Louis spits out, venom in his tone. He hangs up, panicking as the front door unlocks and Harry steps into the flat. He throws his phone to the floor and forces himself to take a breath.

“Hey, babe.” Harry comes over to the couch, digging his palms into Louis' back and rubbing. “Who were you on the phone with? You sounded stressed.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Louis answers, trying to sound nonchalant. “Got into an argument with Niall, it's not a big deal. We'll make up in a few days.”

Harry frowns and sits down beside him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Louis replies, “but there is something else I do need to discuss with you.”

He knows the minute Harry senses something wrong in his tone of voice. It's all in his tight reply and fidgeting. Louis has noticed over the months that he does that when he's nervous.

There's so other way to to this than dropping the bomb, so that's what Louis does. He takes a deep breath and says, “Harry, I know you're the person who was stalking me.”

Harry jumps up of the couch. Louis stands with him because he can't let Harry walk away from this. It needs to be done, things need to be said, air needs to be cleared, and they both know that.

Still, Harry denies that. “Lou, that's crazy. I'd never do that. I never met you before we hooked up in that bathroom.”

“That's true, but it wasn't the only time you had seen me.” Before Harry can get a counter in, Louis adds, “And I mean in real life, not on the telly.” Harry snaps his mouth shut at that.

“Lou—” Harry attempts, but Louis shakes his head.

“I don't want to hear it,” he says. “You had eight months to come clean, eight months to say your side. You never did, so now it's my turn. You're going to listen to what I have to say, and if you still want to talk after that, be my guest.”

“Okay. Okay, I'm sorry.” Harry holds up his hands. “Can I at least say that?”

Louis shakes his head. “You had plenty of time for apologies,” he repeats. “You spied on me, Harry. Did you think I wouldn't figure it out? You have a criminal record, you were put in prison for stalking someone. Tell me, did you honestly think I would figure it out?” Harry opens his mouth to answer, but Louis cuts him off viciously. “Guess what, Harry? I fucking did! And I was stupid enough to think you'd come clean.”

“I'm sorry,” Harry whispers, voice thick with tears.

“It's too late for that.” Louis actually laughs. It's full of poison and it makes Harry cringe. “You scared me to death the first time I saw your binoculars. I was terrified when I saw you recording me at my football match that one time. All those letters you sent... Gee, Harry, you really are messed up, aren't you?”

“I know.” Harry looks at his feet, desperately trying to keep the tears in. Louis hasn't cracked yet.

“Was it by chance that we were at the same club that night?” Louis demands next.

Harry swallows around the thump in his throat and shakes his head. “No. I watched you through the window of the showers and listened to you talking to Zayn, Niall, and Liam.” He blinks rapidly. “I'm sorry.”

“Sorry doesn't fix it,” Louis says coldly. “It's going to take a lot more than a sorry to fix this.”

Harry wipes his eyes furiously. “Are you going to call the cops on me.”

Louis falls silent for a moment before he says, “No, I'm not going to call the cops. But that doesn't make us okay. I need time to think about this. You lied to me for eight months, so don't expect a call anytime soon.”

Harry follows him to the bedroom, long since given up hope of keeping his tears in when Louis' started to fall. He falls on his knees and begs when Louis starts to pack his bag. He screams and cries as Louis steps over him and heads for the door. Most of all, he feels his heart shatters as Louis walks out the door like means nothing at all.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Louis shows up at his mother's house, face so streaked with tears that he can barely see, breath heaving every few seconds, grip on his suitcase tight. Johannah ushers him inside without asking questions, but Louis knows they'll come later, after he's cleaned himself up and calms down. He still hasn't stopped crying.

The questions come later, when Johannah has Louis settled on the couch with a mug of tea. The only evidence of his tears are his puffy, bloodshot eyes and red cheeks. She doesn't pry, just sits and rubs his back like she did for him when he was small.

“It's Harry,” Louis finally speaks. “We got into a really big argument.” He digs the heels of his palms into his eyes to ward off more tears. “I never told you, but I was being stalked. Someone staring through the windows, someone recording me, going everywhere I was going.” He presses his lips together. “It was Harry, mum.”

“Oh, Lou.” Johannah looks heartbroken for him.

“Niall called, told me he found a record of Harry's,” Louis continues, blinking hard. “He was convicted a couple years ago for stalking and was put in prison.”

Johannah sighs, taking his tea from him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he cries. She rocks him, shushing him and stroking his hair and back like he's a child. Louis feels like he is one.

“It hurts,” he mumbles, soaking his mother's shirt with tears. “God, it hurts so much. I put so much into it, but it's like Harry doesn't even care.”

“If you think about it in a different light, he does,” Johannah says, scratching lightly at his scalp. She kisses his forehead in a motherly way. “He spent all this time staking you out and watching.”

“That doesn't make it right, mum,” Louis argues, sitting up out of her grip to take a drink out of his tea.

“I know,” Johannah agrees. “I'm not trying to make any excuses for him.”

“It feels that way,” Louis remarks.

“I know, but that's not what I'm doing.” She rubs a hand down his back. “I know it's hard, sweetie, I know it hurts. Why don't you get some sleep, okay? You look exhausted.”

“I am,” Louis agrees sleepily. “Will you tuck me in like you used to do when I was young?”

Johannah smiles, placing his mug on the table and standing up with him. “Of course I will. I've missed doing this since you moved out.”

Wiping his eyes, Louis leans into his mother's touch and lets her lead him down the hall. He climbs into bed, allowing Johannah to draw the blankets up to his chin and plant a kiss on his forehead.

“I love you,” she whispers soothingly. “It's all going to get better, sweetheart. I promise.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

It takes a long while for Louis to build up the courage. His hands are shaking as he stares at his phone, hovering over Harry's contact name. He's had weeks to think, weeks to plan out what he was going to say, but the weight of Harry's mistakes are still heavy on his shoulders. Still, he presses  _Call_.

Harry answers with a tiny “hello?”, his voice timid and small. Louis can't blame him. It's been eight weeks; one for each month. Harry probably expected he moved on.

 

“It's me,” Louis says, even though he's aware that Harry knows it's him. “I was thinking...”

 

“Yeah?” Harry encourages, his voice too hopeful for someone who has a fifty-fifty chance of his word shattering.

 

“I was thinking we could maybe go out sometime,” Louis continues. “Possibly watch  _The Fault In Our Stars_. I know I said I'd watch it with you at least once.”

 

“You mean it?” Harry asks, his grin big enough to be heard in his voice.

 

Louis smiles. “Yeah, I do. I mean it.”


End file.
